


Speak with a voice I can hear

by DeathOfTheSwan



Category: My Candy Love
Genre: Excessive usage of the word 'dude', Fluff, Getting Together, Humor, Imagine your candy, M/M, Male candy, Meet-Cute, Romance, Valentine's Day Fluff, Versión en español disponible, other mentioned characters - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 10:34:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17785757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeathOfTheSwan/pseuds/DeathOfTheSwan
Summary: After all these years, their paths cross once again.Inspired by MCL 2019's Valentine's event.





	Speak with a voice I can hear

**Author's Note:**

> Versión en español: [Habla con una voz que pueda oír](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17799686)  
> This story features a male candy. I wrote it in such a way that you can imagine anything you want about him, including height, hair colour, etc. Whether he’s cis or trans in your mind is up to you as well ..! The only explicit thing about this candy is that he’s a male, he has an assertive personality, and that he wasn’t as involved in the other characters’ lives during high school like in-game Candy was.  
> Title inspired in the song of the same name [Puhu äänellä jonka kuulen by Happoradio.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PnzdhQyb1gU)

There are some things that are better left unsaid. Most of the time, words left unspoken are for the best. But there are, and have always been, better ways to deal with teenage cowardice when presented with something as complex as a _crush_ , of all things. One example is to just write out your feelings… _and send them to the object of your affections for Valentine’s_. Alright, okay. That probably was not the best course of action back in high school, he admits to himself. To be a coward and to be a _jackass_ at the same time is pretty unheard of, but not impossible. One can find loopholes in one’s own concept of restraint and shyness, and being able to pull a stony-faced expression when in front of the same crush one has sent anonymous letters to is even more unheard of. But, once again, not impossible.

And, anyway, that doesn’t matter anymore. Because he’s grown up and those feelings of impotence have been spoken about, treated, and left behind with his teenage memories and silly crushes. Because as he’s walking down the courtyard of the university he’s been attending for the past few years and sees a dissipating crowd, only to spot a mop of red hair that’s way too familiar and that’s now coming his way and passing him by, he’s convinced that it’s just his imagination playing tricks on him to remind him of his years of self-doubt and backing out. Because that can’t be his teenage crush who’s just walked right by him, right?

“Hey, hold up—”

Steps halting, two heads turning, a second look, realization setting in, a ( _pleased?_ ) smirk on one of them, steps coming his way now, _oh God, oh fuck—_

And now he’s in front of him. That’s him. That’s Castiel who’s now standing there with a _totally pleased smirk_ _on his face_ — _seriously, **pleased**? As in, he’s pleased to **see him** and recalls who he is? _

Who would have thought that, after all these years, their paths would cross once again?

There is a short silence as they’re both taking in each other’s presence, before Castiel breaks it.

“You… You’re from high school, aren’t you?”

“Yeah. You too,” answers the other man, not believing how calm he sounds. “You study here?”

“For a few years now, yeah. How about you?”

He can’t believe this is the longest conversation he’s ever had with Castiel as of now, or that he’s even talking to Castiel at all. “Same. How come I haven’t seen you around, then?”

“Well, you know. Too busy on tours and all, but I still find time for my studies.”

“Dude,” starts the other, “you’re in a band?”

Castiel makes an expression of disbelief at that while gesturing wildly. “Yeah? _Crowstorm_. Doesn’t ring any bell? There are posters all over uni with me on the cover. Like, dude, are you serious? Don’t tell me you’ve never heard—”

He stops when he sees the other’s playful grin, understanding he’s been pranked.

“Oh, hey. Hey.” Castiel gives the man a light punch on the shoulder for pulling a fast one on him, but he’s smiling as well.

 

 

It’s almost funny how two people can become close only after having been distant from one another. If anything, he and Castiel are brought closer by the fact that he’s one of the only familiar faces Castiel recognizes here, and that quite satisfies him, in a way. To know that, even if there have been more known faces spotted at university, known to himself and to Castiel… to know that he's one of the few select people Castiel talks to, despite being the furthest thing to a friend the other has probably called him, is, at the same time, a delight and a curse.

A delight, as in, _he’s one of the only people this internationally acclaimed band member addresses directly. How about that?_

And a curse, as in, _holy shit, he’s very much **not** over his crush._

 

Weeks pass, and people are getting the word out about this new friendship of Castiel’s. And it’s true. Many scramble to know just who this person is, or why Castiel seems so fond of him. It’s said by word of mouth that this man and Castiel are joined at the hip, and while that’s not quite true, in his own eyes, he acknowledges that they are an item of gossip as of lately. Castiel and he have found out they share two subjects. That lead to himself working up the courage to ask the other if he would be up to sitting next to each other, which was answered by an eager affirmation. Unbeknownst to Castiel, that same eager affirmation set off a tiny, _tiny_ current of emotions settling in the other’s chest. _Okay, alright, he said ‘yes’ with the prettiest smile he’s ever seen, wow, what the fuck—_

So here they are as of now, sitting next to or at least near each other whenever possible in class, talking like old friends, not minding the jealous looks they’re sent when spotted together in the hall.

 

 

 

 

Of course, talking as much as they do, it’s predictable that, along with light-hearted talk, something more personal has to come out of it.

“Hey, dude, did I tell you about the time I had a secret admirer in high school?”

Now, this is the time most would struggle to keep a straight face when talking to a person one is obviously still crushing over. He feels that himself as well. _No biggie, he’s just talking about a random person who was jackass enough to sneak in while no one watched, slip a love letter into the school’s bad boy’s locker, hoping no one caught them, waiting for regret to settle in when they saw said bad boy reading said letter and running in the midst of it so that they wouldn’t be caught, oh damn, oh he’s gonna find out—_

“Dude, that’s crazy.”

Fortunately, whatever common sense is left in him hasn’t abandoned him at the very least. He answers the question with a level of impassiveness he wasn’t even aware he had.

“Right? They even had to clarify that it wasn’t a joke or a bet many times on the letters. That’s kind of good, I guess.” Castiel keeps on talking while the other man struggles to lower his heart rate. He’s about to have a heart attack at this point. “I mean, I knew that obviously wasn’t Amber at all. No pink and no little hearts in sight.”

“Oh, right? How about her? Have you seen her as of lately?” He sees the opportunity and changes subjects, hoping Castiel doesn’t notice the abruptness, and he doesn’t.

“Yeah, man. I actually saw her yesterday. She’s changed a lot.”

“Really now?”

“Yes. Wouldn’t believe she’s the same Amber from high school at all!”

And that’s the first time he thinks the phrase ‘ _count your blessings_ ’ comes into action, because were it not for his being insusceptible, their friendship wouldn’t have lasted longer than that point.

 

 

 

 

 

 

For all it’s worth, he prides himself well in having neat notes ready for anyone who’s willing to ask for them —which has only happened once yet, with Chani, who’s been more than kind enough since day one to him, and she too has commented on his tidiness.

The next time this happens it’s Castiel who _asks_ for them. More or less.

“Dude, give me your notes _right now_. I’m dying here.”

“Okay. _Jesus_ ,” he answers, mock-exasperated, because he knows Castiel is just pulling his leg and his small smile just confirms it.

He pulls out his ring binder — _yes, his **ring binder** , which had caused a five-minute long lecture from Castiel on how old-fashioned he was the first time he saw it— _and unclasps the rings to lend Castiel the notes he needs.

“Only on the condition that you never make fun of my binder again,” says the other, and doesn’t have time to stop and catch Castiel’s answer which never comes anyway…

Because he’s leaving for his next class, and he leaves Castiel alone with his thoughts as it dawns on Castiel that this particular handwriting is _way too familiar._

 

 

 

 

 

 

Here comes a part of Castiel’s life he doesn’t talk about.

Back in high school, when he had nothing more than recess to look forward to, the last thing he wanted was to have to witness all the nonsense Valentine’s Day had to bring. He was sick to his bones of the excessive enthusiasm over it. It was just another social convention to get people to spend more money on chocolate and make singles feel bad for being single. Not that he cared about those things in particular, but he was just tired of people treating that day as if it were an international holiday.

Now this date in particular could have gone unnoticed by Castiel with pleasure, had it not been for an interesting little detail in his life.

Love letters, which he wasn’t for a fact unfamiliar with. After all, he did have Amber nuts about him and Amber being herself would show him this same thing by whatever means she knew, one of them being letters. And, of course, fan letters, which he always stores away in a separate box. But this, namely, isn’t what he’s so keen in hiding.

The truth is he never threw his high school Valentine’s letters away. Not even Amber’s. He had been expecting Amber’s ones, knowing fully well of her crush, if it could be called that, and he stored them away afterwards. At the time, he had found them funny, and later on, cute, as the years passed and he recalled her admiration.

What he didn’t expect was the second sender. He did not expect it the penultimate year and he certainly did not expect it the last year of school as well.

He stored those two anonymous letters away with care. In them, the messages were pretty similar: that they were his secret admirer, that they didn’t have the courage to talk to him in person, and that the letters were _not_ a joke or made because of a bet. Castiel didn’t know much about romance. The only partner he’d had in his life had been Debrah and that hadn’t ended well. But he had wondered, at the time, why the sender had included the part that they didn’t have courage. For all Castiel knew, writing a love letter and sending it to the recipient of one’s affections, even if it wasn’t signed, was very much brave in his opinion. The thrill that they could be found out at any time would be more than enough indicator of that.

Castiel had wondered, as well, what the other person had been thinking his reaction would be when making it clear that they weren’t pulling a prank or a bet on him. He himself wouldn’t have been capable of such an act at the time. In any case, that had only reaffirmed his impression that the sender was being genuine.

So why had he gotten so attached to those two letters?

_I think about you and it would mean the world to me if you thought about me too._

Perhaps it was the thought of having someone thinking of him in such a way that had that effect on Castiel. Amber didn’t count, because what she had felt towards Castiel had just been a mere childhood obsession. And Castiel had began to wish to put a face on this secret admirer of his. Whether they were a woman, a man, or someone outside the binary, Castiel didn’t know and wasn’t picky, for he had known he was pan for a long time now, but he had grown desperate. He thought the person would do something else, show hints, or confess in front of him before graduation. But graduation passed and the years did too, and Castiel never got his answer. The sender had remained a mystery for the entirety of the time since the moment Castiel received the letters…

Up to now. Because he’s onto something.

Castiel puts the notes he was lent on his desk. He then walks towards his bed, crouches, and pulls out a box from under it. He opens it. He rummages in it until he finds what he’s looking for, and stands up with it in his hands. The two letters in his hands have gone beige with the passing of the years, but the writing on them is still clear as new.

Then, he walks to his desk once again and leaves the letters next to the notes he's been lent. And compares them.

Same features, same ligatures and size, same patterns… same shapes…

Same _everything_.

 

 

 

“Oh, you have to be kidding me.”

 

 

 

 

Castiel isn’t all for threading lightly, but he’s not one to ignore things when they’re blatant. So when he finds his new friend the next day at campus and tells him to follow him to a less frequented place, earning in time a doubtful look, he just hopes he’s right. Otherwise, this would be very embarrassing.

“Dude.”

“What’s up?”, the other asks, because that’s the only word Castiel has uttered and is now staring at him like he’s debating himself on doing something unforgivable.

Castiel just looks inside his jacket and pulls out two sheets of rolled beige paper, doesn’t take his eyes off the other man’s while he does it, and doesn’t either when he hands them to him.

He’s perplexed as to why Castiel is acting this way. He unfurls the papers and doesn’t even need to read them because his breath has already left him in one quick motion. _Stony-faced_ , he prompts himself as he closes his eyes and opens them just as fast.

“They’re yours,” Castiel starts before the other gets a word in. “You wrote them, didn’t you.”

He has always prided himself in being a good actor, but being a good actor does not equal being a good liar. Thus, when confronted with facts, he has no choice left but to tell the truth.

“Yes. I wrote them.”

There is a two-second long staring match between them, and he loses it because there’s no way he can look Castiel in the eyes now.

“Okay. Cool. I just… needed to know.”

Now that’s a surprise. Most in Castiel’s position would probably back off.

He knows his face is as impassive as ever and is thankful for that same fact when he speaks up. “I’m surprised you didn’t throw them away,” he says as he hands Castiel his letters back.

“I didn’t feel the need to,” answers Castiel. “I thought they were… nice or something.”

More silence. Castiel can’t stand silence nowadays.

“Okay, listen,” starts the aforementioned, “I just… kind of have had this in my conscience for the longest time, dude. Like, it’s been a mystery to me since high school, and now that I have a face to match the writer, I don’t know how to feel.”

“Huh,” says the other, cleverly. “I don’t know, man. Just do whatever you want with that information, I guess.”

“That doesn’t help at all.”

“I know.” He gives a half-smile.

And here has to come the most dreaded part.

“You wouldn’t happen to still have a crush on me, would you?”

_Oh no. Everything but that. No going back now._

“Hum…”, the other mutters as he turns and feigns thinking about it, just to give himself an excuse not to see Castiel in the eyes because his heart is beating so fast he’s sure his heartbeat is visible on his carotid.

 Castiel smirks in the beginning, thinking it’s a joke; then his face falls as realization settles in. He confronts the other by standing in his line of sight.

“ _Dude_.” He says it in an accusatory way, can’t help the way he thinks his newfound friend could have been possibly hiding this from him ever since they first saw each other a few weeks ago.

“Is that a problem to you?”, begins the other, in earnest, unbelieving of how his voice doesn’t tremble. “I’ve always hidden it well. I don’t have trouble doing it now.”

That was enough sign for Castiel to understand that the other didn’t want to lose their friendship.

“How are you so casual about this?”

He didn’t know. “I don’t know, myself. I think it’s just how I am.” And he adds, after a bout of silence: “I can go.”

“No,” Castiel is quick to reply. “No, listen, I was just surprised. It’s just setting in. I kind of don’t want this to be a setback…” He retracts himself when he understands what he’s just said. “Wait, I mean…”

“Dude, if you’re good, I’m good. I don't wan’t that, either. We can go on with whatever we were doing before this.”

“You know I can’t just put this out of my mind.”

“You don’t have to,” answers the other. “You can acknowledge it, and… we don’t have to talk about it, I guess? I mean, if you want…”

Castiel seems to think it over for a bit. “Alright,” he begins, unsure. “Let’s do that.”

 

 

 

 

As surprising as it is, they don’t lose contact. If anything, for whatever reason there is, they start talking more. The revelation isn’t treated by either of them like a hindrance; it is, in their eyes, a weight off their shoulders, something they didn’t realized they needed.

Their days go on as if nothing’s happened. They’re still university’s gossip. Castiel still asks for (read: _demands_ ) his friend’s notes when he’s having trouble with a subject, always leaving them next to the worn letters on his desk which he has no reason to hide now; finds it exhilarating that, in a way, his past and his present merge together in such a manner; can put a face to his previously anonymous admirer, and still talks to him, even whilst knowing that said admirer still has very much of a crush on him, and yet does nothing about it. Whenever Castiel is reminded of this same fact, he’s hit with a rush of _something he can’t explain_ , feels like something’s got to break anytime soon.

And yet, it doesn’t. They’re still the same as always. The other man doesn’t try anything on him, doesn’t make advances on him, _nothing_. On one hand, Castiel is sort of relieved. He’s glad that he doesn’t have to deal with the awkwardness one-sided romance ensues. But on the other hand…

It feels _weird_.

Not weird in the sense that knowing that his friend has a years-old crush on him will affect their friendship, but weird in the sense that this has never happened to him, for someone to admit their feelings aloud and then act casual about it. _Seriously_ , Castiel thinks to himself, _how does he do that?_

Now, Castiel would rather _not_ think about this every single day for the rest of his life, but he just can’t not. It seems to him that he’s freaking out about the topic more than the other man does.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It’s two weeks and a half of apparent normality after the confession that Castiel caves in.

“Dude, like… what do you like about me?”

He knows he’s getting himself in the lion’s den when he asks the question. He knows he shouldn’t, because they’ve already semi-agreed on not talking about it. But he’s curious.

It seems like the other man doesn’t mind much. Either that, or he doesn’t show it. If anything, it just seems like he’s interested in getting the topic out.

“Well,” he starts, clicks his tongue, and wills his increasing heart rate to lessen. “I didn’t know much about you back then, but I got my chances. Like when they paired us up for that science project.”

“Oh, you remember that,” says Castiel, more as an affirmation than a question.

“Yeah. Anyway, gotta remember whatever chance I got to be near you, ‘cause I wouldn’t on my own, right?”, the other goes on. “I never got to know you fully, and I’d only heard word from others about you. Since I wasn’t exactly sociable back then, I kind of never got close to anyone. Now I wish it hadn’t been like that…”, he trails off. “But I guess my own impression was that you were, like, cool and reserved. And that can still apply to now, I mean, not that much but you’re still you.”

“So,” wonders Castiel aloud, “what, you like me for my personality?”

“And your looks,” completes the other before he can back out.

Castiel bites the inside of his cheek. “My looks.”

“Dude, you’re cute.” He can’t believe how much he’s baring himself to Castiel right now, and how fast his heart is beating, and certainly not how he still has sense enough to not freak out about it.

“I’m _cute_?”

“Aren’t you?”

Castiel has to make a pause as he’s taking it all in. So his friend has just confessed a lot more than what Castiel was ready for. Somehow, hearing it all outloud, from the person who’s been crushing over him for the past few years, face to face, feels… intoxicating. He’s never felt so much second-hand vulnerability in his life. It’s flattering.

“Okay,” Castiel takes over after a long silence. “What else?”

The other raises his eyebrows when he hears that. Then, he gives Castiel a half-smile. “Are you fishing for compliments now?”

Castiel sputters and gets defensive. “H-Hey, what— You— Just look at yourself!”, he changes topics as he sees his chance. “I can see your heart go a mile a minute from here.”

“Not true.” The other man tries to deny it when Castiel is pointing at his blatant carotid, but he can’t hide the truth. Instead, he just laughs about it. “You really took whatever chance you got to get out of confessing that you—”

“Don’t do it—”

“—like compliments.”

“Shut up,” Castiel ends up punching the other man on the shoulder but he’s laughing as well.

After a few more jabs here and there, both he and Castiel realize it’s almost time for their next classes. They stand up and bid each other goodbye before going their own way… or not.

The truth is this man has a breaking point too. He knows he’s reached it from the second he crosses the restroom’s door’s threshold, because it’s in this moment that he has to lean against the washbasin just to be able to catch his breath. His heart is beating so fast he worries he’s having a heart attack.

“Oh, bury me. I’m close to death,” he mutters, and grips the border of the sink as he grimaces. He tries until he manages to calm down for the most part. His heart is still beating fast. He leans up in a slow manner, takes a look at his appearance in the mirror, and opens the faucet to splash some water on his face. So much for being stony-faced.

After he’s finished, he walks out of the restroom… and this time he really feels he’s about to have a small heart attack when he runs into Castiel, of all people.

“ _Dude!_ ”, he chastises and hopes he didn’t just squeak it out. “Don’t scare me like that.”

Castiel only answers, with the most solemn face ever, “Are you alright?”

Well that’s embarrassing. He knows exactly what’s on Castiel’s mind but he thinks it’s best to play dumb. “What do you mean?”

“I just saw you, dude. You looked like you were about to pass out.”

“Did I?”

“You can’t fool me. You’re freaked out about this crush thing.”

“Maybe,” the other adds with honesty, and astonishes Castiel when he adds, “just don’t think about it too much.”

Castiel is, indeed, dumbfounded at this, but before he can say anything, his friend has already left for his next class.

 

 

 

Some days go by. Castiel can’t stop thinking about the small conversation he had. Whenever he remembers just how much his friend hid what he was feeling most of the time, and how that affected him, he starts feeling out of place. He can’t shake the feel that he was not supposed to see him in such a state, that that was reserved for someone… _special_. Someone who could end up being himself.

And whenever he catches himself thinking of this same thing, he feels fuzzy, for some reason. For them to be a _couple_? Did he even feel something for the other man?

And yet, he can’t get this out of his mind.

So the next day, when he sees his friend at campus all alone, he goes up to him, half-drags him to a secluded place, and says, before either can run off:

“Hey, what if we were a couple?”

Now that’s something he’s never thought he’d hear coming from Castiel. But as much as his heart picks up, he just has to look down with a rueful smile, and say, “no.”

“No?”

“Castiel, I know what you’re playing at. But you need to know that you don’t have to offer me this to not make me feel bad or something similar.”

“You don’t know what I’m doing,” answers Castiel, a bit put off because he didn’t think his friend would think this of him.

“You don’t feel anything for me, though.”

Castiel blanches at that. “I don’t.”

“That’s the thing. It wouldn’t be healthy for either of us if this was a one-sided thing.”

Castiel feels himself brimming with emotion for some reason all of a sudden. To know that the other wouldn’t accept to be with him, fully knowing the extent of the other’s feelings, just because Castiel doesn’t feel similar. That’s when he makes his decision and chooses to take whatever comes with it.

“Okay, look,” Castiel starts. “I liked the letters, alright? I didn’t just not throw them away, I kept them safe and kept going back to them, because I thought they were _lovely_. I thought, ‘ _whoever thinks of me like this must be a big deal’._ And then finding out it was you all the time, and hearing that you still think of me right now, I thought that that was pretty much all that’s needed. What I’m trying to say is… I don’t care that I don’t see you that way now. Because… I want you to…”

The other man looks on, his heartbeat drumming fast against his chest.

“Um… make me… fall for you? Help me over here, man.”

“You want me to court you?”

Castiel just has to roll his eyes and smiles. “How old are you? ‘ _Court_ ’?” He huffs. “Yes. _Court_ me.”

And this is when his friend can’t help the grin that takes over his features. This must be the happiest he’s been in years. To know that Castiel is giving him a chance, is enough to make his year.

This grin of his seems infectious to Castiel, who tries to suppress his own, but fails.

“Alright,” he mutters. “I’ll do my best.”

“I hope you will.”

There’s a small silence, but he speaks up once again. “You thought they were _lovely_?”

“Oh, shut up,” answers Castiel. “Don’t let it get to your head.”

 

 

 

Coincidentally enough, the day following their small talk, Castiel walks into the main hall just to see some people decorating the walls, furniture, and even the doors with pink. Flowers. Garlands. More pink.

 _Right_. He’s forgotten that Valentine’s day is in less than a week, but that still does not explain why people are so obsessed over it, or why they’ve already started with the decorations when there’s still six more days to go.

He figures there’s a special event about to happen, but, as always, he doesn’t care.

As he’s walking to the Auditorium 1, he spots movement from the corner of his eye, too familiar to go unnoticed. Castiel turns around while everyone is busy rushing to class to notice him, and sees a figure standing far behind. It’s _him_.

He trots to his side and the other pulls him to a less frequented place within the building.

“Guess what,” starts the other.

“What?”

“No, you have to guess.”

Castiel groans and punches him on the shoulder while his friend laughs. “Get on with it.”

“Alright, alright. I have something for you.”

Castiel watches with interest as the other man sticks his hand inside his rucksack, and pulls out… a _rose_.

“A rose,” says Castiel just as much.

“Indeed. I saw it, and it reminded me… of your hair.”

“My hair,” repeats Castiel with the intent of making it sound like he needed further explanation.

“Yeah,” continues the other. “Bet that’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever been told, huh?”

He has a small grin on his face, and the silliness of it all is enough to make Castiel groan once again and hit the other on the face with the rose.

“Oh, hey. Hey,” chastises the man.

“You’re lucky we’re friends. Else, I would have done worse.”

“Dude, I’m flattered,” his friend deadpans.

Castiel keeps the rose.

 

 

 

“Okay, guess what,” says his friend as a greeting the next day, when it’s close to dusk and Castiel has been wondering whether or he would see him at all today.

“Don’t tell me to guess or I’ll cut you with the thorns from yesterday’s rose.”

“Wait, that one still has leftover thorns?”, he wonders aloud, worried that he hadn’t done a good job of peeling the rose yesterday.

“I’m just kidding,” answers Castiel. “What is it?”

“Listen—” starts the other, and then interrupts himself with a _very badly_ done impression of a sneeze… and when he uncovers his mouth, a rose emerges from behind his hands out of nowhere. He grins as Castiel, once more, looks the highest level of unimpressed imaginable.

“Are you kidding me?”

“What, you didn’t like it? I’ve been practicing all day.”

Castiel huffs and can’t contain a small smile. “I gotta admit that was impressive.”

“That’s not all!” Along with the rose, there’s a small square bonbon.

Castiel looks every bit as disgusted as he manages. “Dude. Ew.”

“Oh, come on! The sneeze wasn’t even real! Okay. You don’t want it? I don’t have a problem with that—”

“ _Gimme_.” Castiel demands it and gets it with a small chuckle from the other’s part.

Castiel keeps the second rose and eats the bonbon.

 

 

 

On the third day of his conquest for Castiel’s affections, after a long exchange with the aforementioned about subjects and topics they were struggling in, he decides to pull his next best trick when their conversation is coming to a close.

He jumps at the chance and says, “Okay, sit down. You’re gonna love this.”

“I’m already sitting.”

He ignores Castiel and pulls out a folded sheet of paper from his pocket. He unfolds it. And starts reading.

 “ _Your gaze is a lighthouse that brightens my way._

 _One day you closed your eyes, and I hit a chalet._ ”

Castiel stares. Just stares at him, for a long, long time, with an unreadable expression on his face. Then he giggles. He laughs. It turns into a roaring guffaw that leaves tears in his eyes.

“Dude, th-that’s gotta be the corniest shit anyone’s ever said to me!”

The other man is too busy taking in how sweet it is that Castiel can show this side of himself to be mad that he’s laughing at him.

“D-Don’t tell me you wrote that yourself?!”

“I did!”, the other man feigns being hurt. “It’s for you, dude. Anyway. Take this as well.” He pulls out another rose.

“Oh, seriously? I thought you were pulling my leg here.”

“ _Dude_. Don't play with my heart like that.”

The redhead seems like he’s about to say something, perhaps something between the lines of, ‘ _it’s you who decided to go Shakespeare on me_ ’, but it’s lost to yet another bout of laughter.

Castiel keeps the third rose and the poem. He giggles everytime he re-reads it and can’t help wanting to see his friend more.

 

 

 

It’s the fourth day, and he’s made up his mind that it’s about to get serious. This time, he is _nervous_. Not nervous in the sense that he’s about to be in his long-time love’s presence, because he _was_ nervous before, even if he hid it well. Now he’s nervous, as in, this is the first serious attempt he’s about to have at winning Castiel’s heart.

Castiel looks at him, almost worried, because the other man hasn’t uttered a word since he’s walked up to him, a solid fifteen seconds ago. It seems like Castiel can sense something too, but before he can ask the other what’s going on, he gets a fourth rose.

He smiles, despite himself. “Maybe you could’ve given me the bouquet all at once! Whatever…”

“That’s not all.”

Castiel looks down, and, indeed, wrapped around the rose’s stem there is a small sheet of paper. Castiel unfurls it, and reads it to himself.

“ _Roses are red, violets are blue,_

 _The center of my world begins and ends with you._ ”

And Castiel can’t help, however minute it is, that his heart has now picked up speed. He doesn’t lift his eyes from the paper, not noticing how his friend isn’t looking at him either, perhaps not ready for his reaction.

It’s a small gesture, but it gives him such a rush of emotion that he can’t stop thinking about it, not after they’ve said their goodbyes for the day.

Castiel holds the fourth rose and small poem close to his chest when he gets home.

 

 

 

 

 After yesterday, this man can’t figure what could have gone in Castiel’s mind when he gifted him the poem. He looked… excited, or roused, that is to say. He couldn’t come to a solid conclusion of what the redhead thought in that moment, but he expects it was something good, because, if not, today’s move wouldn’t be more than the biggest miss ever seen.

He invites Castiel over his own dorm for lunch.

“I have two hamburgers at my dorm. Let’s have them there.”

His offer is taken with an eager nod and a smile, which in turn leaves him with a quickening heartrate.

“How did you know they’re my favourite?”, Castiel asks as they run down the now empty courtyard, towards the elevator.

Once they get inside, his friend answers, “I had a feel.”

“You had a _feel_?”

“Okay, dude, listen. I’ve seen you come to school with bags full of _McNaldo’s_ enough times to know that they were your favourite.” They get out of the elevator, and he resumes speaking softly. “I just figured they would still be.”

He knows Castiel is thankful for the alone time, not having people breath down on him at the dining hall for once. Now, how he’s managed to sneak him in without anyone noticing, is above him. That, and the fact that he’s memorized Yeleen’s schedule to know at what exact hour and minute she’s coming back, because were she to come back unexpectedly, this would blow over faster than he can sneak Castiel out the window.

He closes the door behind them, and locks it for good measure. Before Castiel can say anything, he points to the small auxiliary stand next to the door. There are two tuppers, containing one burger each, but one of them has a rose and a little note on it.

“Guess which one’s yours.”

“No kidding,” answers Castiel with a small smile on his face. “How much were them?”

“I made them.”

Castiel looks up at that. He can see in the other’s eyes that he’s being genuine when he says it.

There is a small silence.

Then Castiel whispers, with the most solemn voice ever, “ _That’s so romantic._ ”

The other man takes a sharp inhale at that. Then he requests, in a small voice, “ _Read it?_ ”

Castiel does as told and picks up the note. He reads it to himself and has to take a pause and close his eyes afterwards because it’s _his_ heart that’s about to burst out of his chest now.

“ _On high school I told you it would mean the world if you thought about me, as I thought of you._

_Now that I have you in front of me once again, I see that’s not all that matters. Because as you gave me the chance to seek you after, you had already let me have you in my thoughts. I see now that’s what matters._

_Thank you for allowing me_ _to think of you once more._ ”

He thinks he’s upset Castiel now. Castiel isn’t saying anything, has what looks like a downcast expression, as if he wasn’t expecting to receive something with this level of exposed vulnerability in it.

He’s fearing the worst, when Castiel decides to speak up.

He utters the smallest, tiniest, lowest ever, “ _Dude_.”

And it takes less than three seconds for the prettiest blush the other man’s ever seen to take over Castiel’s features.

And it takes even less for the prettiest smile to take over as well.

And, being short of breath as he is, and as ecstatic as he feels at the display, he can’t help for his mouth to move of its own accord, and says, “What a pretty smile.”

He feels everything in his soul melt when said smile widens, and Castiel’s blush darkens, leaving his face a gorgeous shade of pink. Castiel seems to notice himself too, because he brings a hand over to cover his mouth, since he can’t stop smiling.

“No, hey, don’t do that,” says the other in a haze. “Let me see you.”

He puts a hand on Castiel’s, softly, and without much resistance Castiel’s own hand lowers down. But he still hasn’t taken his hand off Castiel’s.

“Did you like it?”, he asks, willing his own heart to calm down, but isn’t at all prepared for what’s Castiel is about to say next.

“I’ve started to feel things too.”

He clicks his tongue as if he hasn’t just been told the best news in his life. “ _Huh,_ ” he creaks out cleverly.

“‘ _Huh_ ’? Really?”, Castiel mocks him, but he can’t help the heaviness in his voice, and he didn’t notice how close they were, until now, when he takes note of his hand still in the other’s. He looks down to it.

“I might just kiss you.”

It’s so abrupt, what the other’s just said, that Castiel needs a full four seconds to process it. And then comes to a decision. Heavy-eyed as he is, he looks up once again, and hopes his voice doesn’t sound as quiet as he feels it does when he gives his answer:

“ _I’m not opposing_.”

There’s three long seconds of stillness in the air, before the other man closes the space between them with a quick kiss on Castiel’s mouth that ends just as fast.

And this time, Castiel needs two long seconds to process that he’s been kissed, and when he does, his face takes on an even darker shade of red, almost like his hair.

The other man is already freaking out because he just kissed Castiel. Holy _fuck_. Castiel isn’t saying anything and he’s hoping he hasn’t ruined anything and _holy shit he just kissed Castiel and he’s not talking and he needs to apologize as soon as possible—_

“Oh, I’m… I’m sorry, I thought—”

“It’s okay.” And Castiel says it with a voice so sweet, and eyes so full of stars he thinks he could pass out and Castiel is leaning forward now and he’s kissing—

 _Holy shit_. He’s kissing him back. He just kissed him. He gave him back a kiss. And retreated just as quick.

There’s just the two of them in the world right now and this man thinks he can die happy. He puts his right hand against Castiel’s jaw, strokes the other’s lips with his thumb. Castiel still hasn’t let go of the other’s left hand, ever since he told him not to cover that pretty smile of his, and instead shyly interlaces their fingers together.

The other man closes his eyes for one brief second because it’s too much. When he opens them, Castiel is still looking at him with that same look of adoration, and it’s so much that he just has to lean forward, and kiss Castiel once again, who this time pushes back in turn. And this kiss ends just as quick. And the next one. And the following.

He thinks it’s too soon to say the ‘L’ word outloud, but it’s not too soon to think it.

When Castiel comes home, after having the most quiet lunch ever, quiet but not uncomfortable, he thinks back to all that’s happened and how fast he fell for the other man. He takes out his phone and sends a message.

**_I’m going to put all these roses in my dressing room. I’ll have them with me before tonight’s concert… Thanks. I hope you’ll come see me._ **

Castiel does as he says and puts all the flowers in a vase. Right before it’s time, he holds them all including the fifth one close to his chest, along with the note.

 

 

 

 

“You were amazing.”

Castiel spins so fast he gets a little light-headed, and when he sees who’s the person who’s just given him a mini heart attack, he relaxes, smiles, frowns, and punches the other on the shoulder, all in that order.

“Don’t scare me like that ever again.”

The other man looks around quick, and pulls Castiel into an empty room currently not in use. “I want you to have this.”

A sixth rose. Castiel doesn’t say anything at first and just holds it close to his chest, right in front of the other man, who’s about to freak out because _holy shit, how can one be so pretty_ , but right before he can say anything else, Castiel speaks up.

“This time, I’m the one who has something for you.” The other man was too lovestruck to notice the small bag Castiel has in his hands, and is now handing to the other.

“For me?”, he asks just as much, and opens it with care. Takes out what was inside, unfolds it, and has to do a double take because he can’t believe what he’s seeing.

A shirt. With the logo of his favourite band from high school.

He stares at it for the longest time until it becomes almost unhealthy, so much that Castiel is about to ask if he’s okay, but the other beats him to it.

“ _Dude_ … Like… what are we?”

Castiel doesn’t know what to say to that. “Wh— like, in the sense of…?”

“This is, like… a marriage proposal to me.”

And Castiel giggles, fucking _giggles_ , because he certainly wasn’t expecting such a reaction.

“How… How did you know?”

“I had a vague vision, a memory all of a sudden. From high school, when they paired us up for the science project and I saw your binder. I… kind of… recalled and hope you’d still like them.”

The other man comes out of his reverie long enough to slowly put down his new shirt, free one hand, use it to hold Castiel’s chin in place, and plant one short kiss to the side of Castiel’s forehead.

And Castiel _blushes_.

“You remembered?”

Castiel produces a sound that’s too much of a whine and too little of a groan. “I… did. No kiss… on the mouth?”

“But I need to ask you first.”

“You don’t need to ask.”

“I mean… ask _you_.”

Castiel makes a sound of confusion at that but gets flustered when the other man gets in his space with no warning.

“Castiel.”

“Hm,” he squeaks out.

“Castiel. Can you feel… how my heart beats for you?”

And the redhead giggles.

“Hey, I’m trying to be serious here.”

“I know.”

“So let me ask you…”

“Mmm?”

“Would you… would you be my—”

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“That’s what I just said.”

“You don’t even know what I was about to ask.”

“Dude, yes. I’ll be your boyfriend.” And Castiel laughs some more just to hide his blush.

“Okay. Okay, dude. _Dude!_ We’re a couple now. Okay.”

“Aren’t couples supposed to kiss?”, urges Castiel.

The other feigns thinking it over. “Hmm…”

And Castiel can’t take it anymore. He grabs the other’s nape and presses their lips together. And the other man melts into the kiss. He puts one hand on Castiel’s head, and the other on his lower back, and for this tiny, brief moment in life, he’s the happiest man on Earth.

This long kiss doesn’t end abruptly but rather turns into smaller, shorter kisses, until they finally part.

“We have to be a secret.” Castiel is the first one to break the silence, though his voice comes out in a whisper.

“Yes. I understand.”

“We can’t go showing affection just like that. We need to be careful.”

“Can I give you starry eyes, though? From, like, the other side of the room?”

Castiel huffs out a laugh. “Starry eyes are fine.”

The man runs fingers between locks of Castiel’s hair before they detach. And then it’s time to go out again, him several seconds after Castiel to not rouse suspicion.

But not before said man stops in his tracks and turns his head around.

“Oh, and hey.”

The other man listens closely, and gives a fond smile.

“I’m glad you spoke up.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Dude,” Castiel’s _boyfriend_ says later on that day, when they manage to sneak out for a bit. “Guess what day it is today.”

“The day you’ll take me out for dinner?”

He gets a silly feeling in his chest, seeing Castiel so hopeful, and says just as much. “I hope?”, and then adds, “But what day, as in, what happens today? Apart from us getting together.”

Castiel hopes he’s not forgetting any birthdays. He comes up with nothing. His boyfriend figures as much and points out to the entrance of the main hall, far from where they are in the courtyard. Where it’s pink. And there are flowers everywhere. And garlands. And more pink. And… people kissing—

“You’re fucking pulling my leg now,” he groans. “Don’t tell me we got together on fucking Valentine’s?!”

And his boyfriend has the nerve to laugh.

“Are you serious?!”

“Yes. So, that begs the question…” He grabs Castiel’s hand. “Be my Valentine?”

**END**

**HAPPY VALENTINE’S 2019 TO ALL :-)**

**Author's Note:**

> seems like everyone wanna play with me gatdem FEELS this week so I had to give something back *cries in pibes chorros*


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